9 Sep 2007

Their faces are familiarThey’re my work mates, I thinkThey havent got dates,They giggle and fallOn top of each otherThey smile at meAnd I blushOne of them brushes his handAgainst my buttI want to tell him to fuck offto Lalaland.But it’s not his faultHis mind isn’t all thereHe blows me a kiss Partial blissAnd my stomach does a somersault

The next day at workI try talking to himI almost trip on my shoeHe blanks me out, completelyI accept defeat, but,Forgotten yesterday, have you?